


Metanoia

by MoodyMuddy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Disappearance, Drama, F/F, Mystery, Slow Burn, after the war, eventual Bellamione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyMuddy/pseuds/MoodyMuddy
Summary: (N) The journey of changing one's mind, heart, self or way of life. Set after the war





	Metanoia

Lurching through the detritus left over from the last battle she stumbled over more of the rough-edged stones that had already split open both the denim of her jeans and the pale skin of her ankles. Taking a breath and feeling the fatigued ache across her shoulders and radiating out across the rest of her battle-worn body the bushy-haired teenager came to a halt on her meandering path. Leaning a shoulder against part of a wall that still stood she closed her eyes momentarily.

Clearing the ruins that had once been more of a home to her than the one she'd shared with her parents was a colossal task; a lot of the students had stayed to help but even so, only a tiny part of the castle was fit to be rebuilt. It wasn't so much the constant use of magic, though that was draining her quicker and quicker each day, but the sheer number of bodies they were still pulling out from under the rubble. The loss of life never sat well with her and after the stress of the last few months, it was all she could do to keep herself together.

Sinking down in a patch of sunlight shining through where the roof had been, she glanced up and squinted into the forget-me-not blue sky, the sun dazzling her and making her look away. Today should have been the last day of term, she and the rest of the students should've been in high spirits as they headed to board the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

Instead, they were here; clearing up after a war that never should have happened. Glancing up again at the cheery sound of a bird singing she shook her head. It was incongruous with the balmy summer day and the juxtaposition of the black smoke still hanging in the air in places.

Raising an eyebrow as she heard her stomach growling she realised suddenly that she had been so caught up in trying to fix the school that she had missed both breakfast and lunch. Ignoring it with a wry smile she went to get to her feet then stopped and stared around, her eyes wide in her blanched face.

The great hall. The volunteers had decided to leave this to last, none of them wanting to disturb the dead that had yet to be collected from under the vestiges in piles around the hall. Letting her hazel eyes roam around the space as she had so many times before she finally settled on where her own house table had once been. Gryffindor's table. It was next to that where Bellatrix Lestrange had died. 

Remembering the moment when Bellatrix had been killed bought a slight smirk to her lips, even as her body shook from the memories of what that dark witch had been capable of. Unconsciously her fingers had moved to brush against the still weepy scar on her arm, the movement and feel of the letters now proving to be a comfort of sorts. For a moment she let the memories come; overwhelming her again with fear and wretchedness of being at the mercy of the deranged witch. Yet, she acknowledged to herself now, as she had looked into those almost black eyes she had seen not insanity but fear and intelligence. Though until now she'd hardly let herself acknowledge that about the witch. It was better for everyone that the bitch was dead, it was what she told herself even as a tingly feeling of remorse settled in the pit of her stomach. All life was sacred she reminded herself, though even whispering the words out loud didn't negate how she was thankful that Bellatrix was dead and no longer a threat.

The rubble where the witch had died was untouched like the rest of the hall was, but suddenly despite the exhaustion, she needed to see for herself. She needed to see, to confirm, the witch was indeed dead, that her ordeal at the hands of that monster was finally over. Every night since Malfoy Manor she had been plagued by the nightmare of her memory of being tortured, of having to endure the pain and the fear all over again.

Flicking her wand as she walked she watched as the pieces of masonry and fractured rafters lifted into the air and moved to one side, the resulting dust cloud making her choke and her eyes to water. Blinking her eyes impatiently she shook her head to dispel the moisture streaming from her eyes only to freeze as confusion flared in her eyes and a frustrated mewl left her lips.

There was nothing to indicate there'd ever been a body under where the remainder of the roof had fallen in overnight. Looking around again she narrowed her eyes as she searched; assuming it was the wrong place after all. It wasn't, it couldn't be, the memory of Molly's duel with Bellatrix was burned onto her retinas; there was no way she could ever forget that moment.

Bellatrix Lestrange was gone.


End file.
